Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Barbados and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Harpers Bizarre to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Magazine. All the underground hits.
All Lou Reed & John Cale tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Infiniti record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slave record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Aaron Thompson,
Yaz,
Delon & Dalcan,
Sight & Sound,
Magma,
Dawn Penn,
Moss Icon,
Radiopuhelimet,
D'Angelo,
Mo-Dettes,
Grey Daturas,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
the Swans,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Grass Roots,
Sonic Youth,
Rosa Yemen,
Moby Grape,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Faust,
Eurythmics,
Section 25,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Sonics,
Ornette Coleman,
Tubeway Army,
Sandy B,
Peter & Gordon,
Angry Samoans,
Kenny Larkin,
Stiv Bators,
Hardrive,
Gang Starr,
Inner City,
Bobby Hutcherson,
8 Eyed Spy,
Marc Almond,
Robert Wyatt,
DJ Style,
The Divine Comedy,
Jimmy McGriff,
Jeff Lynne,
La Düsseldorf,
Ken Boothe,
Dave Gahan,
The Pop Group,
Stetsasonic,
Thee Headcoats,
Erasure,
Charles Mingus,
June Days,
Electric Prunes,
the Association,
Glenn Branca,
Rapeman,
Main Source,
Cal Tjader,
Kayak,
Procol Harum,
Radio Birdman,
The Toasters,
Bobby Byrd,
Fat Boys,
Mary Jane Girls, Mary Jane Girls, Mary Jane Girls, Mary Jane Girls.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.